


Destiny

by Brenda



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Bisexual Han Solo, Character Study, Han What Are You Doing With Your Life, Implied Relationships, M/M, POV Han Solo, The Force Ships It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 20:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3622425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brenda/pseuds/Brenda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There was something about the kid Han couldn't shake.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Destiny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Menomegirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menomegirl/gifts).



> Request fic written for Menomegirl, who asked for Han/Luke. 
> 
> Set after the rescue of Princess Leia and before the Falcon gets to the Rebel stronghold on Yavin 4.

There was something about the kid Han couldn't shake.

Han wasn't the type to believe in destiny or fate or any of that mystic voodoo nonsense the old man had been spouting on the trip out to Alderaan, and he sure as hell didn't believe in some invisible force holding the universe together with equally invisible strings. Han believed in about four things, all total – the Falcon, his blaster, a warm, willing body to share his bed, and cold, hard credits in his hands at the end of a successful run. He didn't believe in man's better nature or pretty-sounding promises or in all that poetic bullshit about honor or chivalry or codes. In the circles he ran in, believing in shit like that would just get you killed, and dying was pretty damn low on his list of priorities. He may not be all that important in the grand scheme of things and he may not be as rich as he liked or as free from entanglements as he liked, but his life, as modest as it is, sure as hell beat the alternative.

It should have been easy enough to tune out Luke Skywalker's idealistic mumbo jumbo, to ignore Luke's naïve statements about right and wrong and the greater good, and all the idealistic plans the old man had put in his head about his Grand Future and the even grander vision the fates had in store for him. Han had been around long enough to know a scam when he heard one, to know what indoctrination looked like. But there was something about the kid that captured Han's attention and refused to let go. Something beyond the youthful face or wide blue eyes or optimistic smile or even his unexpected (and welcome) skill with a laser canon. Han couldn't put a finger on it, and he didn't much like people he couldn't read or situations he couldn't control. 

His attention and thoughts should have been on getting his reward money or how he was gonna fix things with Jabba or even on the princess currently catching a couple of well-earned hours of sleep in his quarters. She was exactly the sort of sassy spitfire he liked in his women, and it didn't exactly hurt that she was easy as hell on the eyes, with soft curves that belied the sharpness of her tongue. 

The princess, well, she was an easy one to figure out. Wore her aura of command like a shield, gave orders like a woman used to being instantly obeyed, and took charge like it was her right. A woman like that would be fun between the sheets, would be a challenge and a dare and worth the bite marks and scratches she'd be sure to leave behind.

But not even thoughts of all the delightful ways he could put Princess Leia Organa's mouth to better use could stop his gaze from drifting towards the co-pilot seat and Luke's strong-jawed, wide-eyed profile. There was nothing outside the windows to grab Luke's attention, just a lot of bright twinkling lights dotting the deep, vast blackness of space, but one would have thought Luke was gazing at the dazzling moons of Ithor or the verdant jungles of Taanab. Han had never met anyone who wore their emotions on their sleeve as openly or who was as easily dazzled by the smallest things. Granted, Luke was just some farm kid who'd spent a lifetime stuck on some backwater desert planet, but Han didn't think that explained everything.

"You're staring," Luke remarked, without turning his head. He sounded amused.

"Yeah, I know," Han said, brazening it out like he did everything else. 

Luke shrugged, like the scrutiny either didn't bother him or he was used to it. "Okay."

"I can't figure you out is all," Han blurted, in a fit of very uncharacteristic honesty.

At that, Luke finally looked Han's way. His gaze was as guileless as his small smile. "Nothing to figure out. I've led a simple life."

Han believed that. "Doesn't make you a simple person," he said, and shifted, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. He wasn't much for introspection or philosophy. 

"I guess," Luke answered, and gave Han a long, searching look before returning his attention to the stars. "When you've figured me out, let me know."

"Yeah, you'll be the first," Han replied, and stood. He needed to stretch his legs. "I'm gonna check on the deflector shield generator. Try not to crash into anything." Normally he'd never let anyone else other than Chewie fly his girl, but Luke had proven himself to be a capable pilot, and it wasn't like they were near any inhabited systems.

Luke just smiled again, dimpled and sincere, hands easy and loose on the controls. "Yeah, you bet." 

Han allowed himself another minute to change his mind, to come to his senses, but he'd always trusted his gut and his gut was telling him the Falcon was in safe enough hands. And the fact that he trusted Luke after such a short time was as baffling as it was just plain nuts. But trust him he did, for no discernible reason.

There was _something_ about the kid, alright. And Han was going to get to the bottom of it if it killed him.

***


End file.
